


Gender Trouble

by LaSordide



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Abuse of the English Language, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Run-On Sentences, Spousal Crabbiness, brief mention of making beautiful gay dead love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaSordide/pseuds/LaSordide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You do realize people think of me as the girl in this relationship?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gender Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> God, can you imagine what it would be like to be PDS and Gay and in a small town? 
> 
> I happen to be none of these things, but – that’s what fanfiction’s for.
> 
> Also, I saw someone somewhere asking for In the Flesh fluff, and I heard my - ahem - SiRen song.
> 
> Any problems/issues are my own. Title from Judith Butler's seminal (HA!) Feminist work about gender performativity.
> 
> Now in Chinese! Translation by Kimgeas (坎璃) at http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-141426-1-1.html

“You do realize people think of me as the _girl_ in this relationship?”

 

Simon puts his book, a non-electronic copy of James Joyce’s _The Dead -_ it’s Irish and it’s got _dead_ in the title, omg ha! _Hilarious_. Kieren knows Simon thinks this is the wacky epitome of PDS wit, there’s practically a battered hard copy of the novella in every fucking room of the house including the kitchen, and Simon’s rereading it now for at least the third time, in spite of the fact that Kieren bought him the latest Johnny Cash bio for Christmas – face down on his naked chest, turns his head on his pillow, and screws his face up so hard at Ren that it might stay that way.

 

“ _What_?” he says.

 

There are probably a minimum of three strata of wrinkles on Simon’s forehead.

 

Kieren keeps his eyes on his tablet, suddenly more immersed in _The World Without Us_ than he had been a few seconds before, so Simon jams his elbow into the other man’s ribs to get his attention.

 

“Ow!”

 

“Out with it,” Simon growls, glaring. “You can’t just say something like that and not explain it. What’re you on about?”

 

“It’s true,” Kieren replies. “Everyone thinks I’m the submissive housewife of the two of us.”

 

“That’s stupid,” Simon says. “Who thinks that? Somebody say something to you – oh, that fucking prick Gary?” Only it comes out _fecking prrrick_ when Simon says it, which almost makes Kieren laugh for a second, but then he considers the vehemence with which it’s said - and Jesus, _there’s_ a relationship that will never heal. Kieran’s reminded once more just how small a community Roarton is.

 

These are all people who, in spite of their recent shared history, have had to relearn to deal with seeing one another on a daily basis.

 

“No, not fucking Gary,” Kieren replies quietly, rolling his eyes. Like he’d be caught dead - figuratively or literally - anywhere near that guy. Emphatic _no_. “It’s my parents, mainly.”

 

This gives Simon real pause. Ren can see it in the cant of his light eyes, the planes of his angular face, his persistent frown, even though his expression doesn’t actually change all that much. He knows Simon’s been extremely reluctant to criticize his parents since they warmed to him after he protected Kieren in the graveyard. Steve and Sue have been huge Simon fans since then, and Kieren – who can read Simon like no one else – knows how starved for that kind of parental affection the older man is.

 

Still, it’s made it a major pain in the ass whenever he wants to bitch about them.

 

“Mmm. How so?” Simon asks cautiously.

 

“It’s in little things.”

 

“Like?”

 

Kieren sits up straighter in their bed.

 

“Like, last time I was with my mum, she attempted to share some wisdom about _How To Keep Your Man Happy In Bed_ that was straight out of Cosmo.” When he looks over at Simon, Simon’s eyes are huge and terrified, aghast.

 

“I swear to God,” he continues, “if we ate, she’d be sneaking me recipes intended to fatten you up or something similar.

 

“And then my dad – he keeps asking me to have you go over there to fix window latches, or the garage door, or to knock the wasp’s nest out of the tree at Mrs. Singh’s across the alley – but, you see, he doesn’t ask _me_ to do those things, he doesn’t ask Jem, does he?”

 

Simon thinks desperately for something to say in this minefield.

 

“I think he’s just trying to involve me in father-in-law-son-in-law bonding experiences, love,” Simon whispers delicately, knowing full well this defense of his in-laws will set Kieren off. He’s not disappointed. He gets _the look_ almost instantaneously.

 

“Ok, ok, ok,” Simon relents, putting his hands up and cowering. “Yeah, all right, maybe there’s some of that happening.” Fuck, _fuck_ , Monroe – now what? “But, you know – that generation – “ _Yes, yes, go with historical context, something Kieren can appreciate_ “ – I mean, they would have had a hard time accepting just a regular Queer relationship, let alone Queer and PDS.” He gestures futilely, knowing it’s all over. “It’s all very new to them, yeah? I think they’re doing their level best, sweetheart.”

 

Kieren gives Simon the flattest stare he can manage. “Oh. My. _God_ – this from the former Disciple of the Undead Prophet. From one of the head soldiers of the Undead Liberation Army, _Simon_!” Kieren gesticulates so expressively their bed shakes, “Are you _hearing_ _yourself_?”

 

“All right, all right, all right!” Simon covers his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ,” _Jaisus Chrrrist_ , he says under his fingers.

 

There’s silence for a few moments, where Simon can hear Kieren steam next to him, and Kieren swears he can hear Simon _think_.

 

“Maybe you should – I don’t know – go over there sometime tomorrow and just knock the bloody wasp’s nest out of tree, then, hey?”

 

“I am JUST starting to get feeling back in my arms and chest, Simon, I’m not going to sign up to get _stung_ by bloody wasps – “

 

“OK, oh my GOD, _what do you want me to do_?” Simon pulls the pillow out from under his own head and thrusts it over his face. “Name it, Kieren,” he mumbles through the poly fill. “Want me to tell them how you do half the heavy lifting, or what a man you are in the sack, or how much I enjoy getting fucked? It’s all true. Tell me, and I’ll fucking make it happen.”

 

Kieren’s suddenly quiet, regarding his lover’s posture – something between _frightened lab chinchilla_ and _barely-keeping-it-together pit bull_ – and it hits him: he was not put on this planet to make this man feel this way.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kieren blurts. He pulls the pillow off Simon’s face, but Simon has his eyes closed tight. “Oh, shit – Simon. Simon, I’m sorry.”

 

One wary white eye pops open.

 

“This is not your fault. I’m just frustrated – I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Kieren tells him. “I’m really sorry.”

 

Both eyes open now, but clearly annoyed. Simon derides, “Sure you don’t want me to let you dad know what a hot fuck you were the other night, after the cinema?”

 

“No, thank you,” Kieren mutters, chastised. “And don’t say _fuck_ , for Christ’s sake.”

 

“Oh, I apologize – so I shouldn’t mention how you made _beautiful gay dead love to me_ all over the parlor and into the shower to your dad the next time I see him, then?”

 

If Kieren could effectively bury his face in an iPad, he’d do it. “No, Jesus,” he says. “But maybe, next time we’re over there…”  
  
“Dote more often? Help your mum in the kitchen? Break a nail trying to fix a window latch? _Sit on your lap after tea_?”

 

Kieren looks at him shyly. Simon smiles and says, “Deal.”


End file.
